


Frisky Roman Gods

by anasticklefics



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29806908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anasticklefics/pseuds/anasticklefics
Summary: The Enterprise crew visit a planet whose native clothing have cut outs on various parts of the body. Jim and Spock take advantage of this.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Frisky Roman Gods

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: A bit of sexual undertones, but mostly fluff and nothing graphic.

Jim was careful of showing every planet that they landed on respect, especially if they were meeting the natives. Sometimes it meant just being friendly; smiling and greeting them in their own way and making sure to show them that Uhura most likely could speak their native tongue and thus making communication much easier. Other times it meant bending over backwards in order to not offend; their rules stricter than Vulcan and much more complicated than the Academy ever prepared him for.

This particular planet laid somewhere in between. The king was friendly, welcoming them with two pairs of open arms and speaking English almost pridefully.

“I’ve studied you,” he said, his smile reaching his eyes and making Jim both like him and feel a little wary. “Unfortunately I only speak English and a little bit of Arabic, but it seems to be doing me good, ey?”

His casual way of speaking combined with his light tone made Jim _extremely_ wary, but he stepped forward and shook his hand gratefully. “Thank you so much for letting us land, your highness.”

Waving two hands at him, the king replied, “Please. It’s my pleasure, Captain, I assure you.”

“This guy would have zero qualms of throwing us in a dungeon if we offended him,” Bones muttered, out of the king’s earshot but still too close for Jim’s liking.

“Let’s just do what we came here for and leave as soon as we can,” Jim replied, eyes never once leaving their host.

In order to stay in their good graces, Jim didn’t even question it when they asked them to dress in their traditional clothing. He’d wear a potato sack if they told him it would mean a lot to them.

“This is much tighter than a potato sack.”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.” Jim observed himself in the mirror, Bones looking as disheveled behind him. “I mean, it does show off my best side.”

“It shows off both your sides,” Bones said, giving said side a squeeze that made him jerk away with a laugh. “Wait, this might be useful.”

“Get away from me,” Jim said weakly, aware that the rest of his crew were in the same room, all frowning at their costumes in the various mirrors of this room. Truly the room was nothing but mirrors.

The clothes were tight, random holes leaving skin bare. Thankfully their anatomy wasn’t too far off from the natives, and so the slits in their sides were simply for the natives extra pair of arms, as well as slits on their thighs and lower backs for other parts. The last one felt extra exposing, but as they were all in the same boat Jim didn’t feel too weird about it.

“Everyone okay with this?” he asked his crew, turning to face them. “I’m sure the king won’t notice if a couple of us go back to the ship if you don’t feel comfortable.” Eyes mostly on Spock, but Spock had always been willing to put effort in as long as he was respected back.

“I’m all right,” Sulu said, straightening. And then, with a grin, added, “You can almost see my abs.”

“We’re only staying for the day,” Jim reminded them. “We need to make a good impression. Get some supplies. Get some allies. I count on you to be on your best behavior and to come to me if anything happens. Got it?”

They all nodded and Jim turned to glance at his reflection one last time. _Here goes._

“Captain.” Spock stopped him in the doorway. “May I speak with you?”

Jim nodded. “You all go ahead,” he told the others. “We’ll catch up.”

Shutting the door behind them, Jim turned to Spock, his formality melting. “Have I ever told you how much I love it when you call me captain?”

Something sparkled in Spock’s eyes. “I am aware.”

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Spock’s fingertips grazed Jim’s wrist. “I simply wanted to show appreciation.”

“Oh?”

“This uniform certainly… _suits_ you.”

“ _Oh_.” Jim felt himself flush, pleasure and timidness battling and making him fumble. “I quite appreciate the design myself.” He placed his palm over Spock’s bare side. “My hand fits perfectly.”

Spock moved closer, fingers leaving Jim’s wrist and finding the small of his back. “Your skin is cold.”

Jim hummed. “Maybe you can heat it up.”

“I intend to.”

“I see.”

Jim did see; their reflections all over the room. Spock’s skin in contrast to the pale material. The dim light penetrating the thin curtains. Everything on this planet had the air of a mediterranean vacation, except maybe the actual air which was breezy and most likely chilly in the evenings. Jim reckoned even Italy had winters.

“Do I remind you of a Roman god?” he asked Spock now, their chests pressed together as Spock’s hands wandered over his back, into the slit and up toward his shoulder blades.

“You do not.”

“No?”

“The ancient gods were cruel. Some would call them unreal.” Spock rested his forehead against Jim’s. “You are as real as ever.”

“You’re making me blush.”

“That has proven to be an easy feat.”

Jim let out a laugh. “Is that so?”

“I must admit I still enjoy it.”

“You’re the only one who gets to see it, so you better.” He twitched. “That tickles.”

Spock’s hand was slowly moving downward again. “I know.”

“Maybe you’re a Roman god.”

“Me?”

“You’re cruel- hey now.”

“I can be much more cruel, Jim,” Spock said, his other hand having found Jim’s bare side, nails raking over it. “At least in the sense of us pretending this is not enjoyable for you.”

Jim huffed. “How can you know _everything_?” he asked, twisting in his attempt to get away from the unbearable sensation without actually managing to.

“I do not,” Spock replied. “I simply know you.”

“That’s kinda cheesy of you, Spock- woah!” Jim was full on giggling now, Spock’s hand on his back being merciless to his sensitive skin. It didn’t help that he was pressed toward a mirror; one hasty movement risking to end in broken pieces and seven years worth of bad luck. Not to mention he would have to explain it all to the king. He just couldn’t afford something like that.

So he stayed put, and maybe because yes okay he didn’t particularly hate it either. Whatever.

Spock’s mouth had joined in, kissing along Jim’s neck in a very ticklish manner. Spock never accidentally tickled him. He knew exactly what to do for it to simply feel good, which meant that he would always be doing it on purpose if his touches left Jim a squirmy mess.

He was _definitely_ a squirmy mess now; hands gripping Spock’s elbows as he swayed from side to side. Spock’s lips on the left side of his neck, his hand on his right side. Balancing each other out enough for Jim to never be able to escape it. The king certainly couldn’t have had this in mind when he gave them these clothes, and Jim idly wondered if he was offending the planet by doing this.

But this was Spock. Spock would never offend a whole planet just to make Jim laugh when he could merely wait 24 or so hours.

“I can’t,” he choked out, still giggling, still squirming.

Spock left his neck, nearly smirking, in Spock standards. “Do you want me to cease?”

No. “Yes.”

“Are you certain?”

No. “Yes!”

Maybe because they technically weren’t alone, on a planet not of their own, or maybe because Spock respected his words more than his desire. Either way, Spock did back away, his hands smoothing into grips of his skin rather than movements. He tilted his head as Jim calmed down, still tangled up in each other, the mirrors following their every move.

“We should go,” Jim mumbled eventually, pinks still warm even though he knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about around Spock. “They’ll be wondering where we are.”

Spock let him go, and Jim’s own hands fell to his sides. He glanced at one of the mirrors, realizing he looked like a mess.

“Allow me,” Spock said when Jim frantically tried to fix his hair and clothes.

Jim sighed. “Be my guest.”

Spock’s hands were gentle, though not ticklish. Loving, in a way. Jim couldn’t wait to get off of this planet and back to their room, free to laugh and touch for as long as they wanted.

Maybe he was being unfair to this planet, but, well, he wasn’t always as patient as he pretended to be.

“Come on.” Jim pushed the door open. “Let’s make some friends dressed as frisky Roman gods.”


End file.
